


for real

by gracedameron



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Period-Typical Homophobia, do i ever write anything else but sprace??, it's gay of course, lots of love, love is love is love is love, oh god where to start, the answer is no i don't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 13:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16873644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracedameron/pseuds/gracedameron
Summary: an intimate look into Spot and Race's relationship and love.





	for real

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firehearte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firehearte/gifts).



> dedicated to my beautiful girlfriend Sage, the Race to my Spot. i love you, baby.

*

Spot rolls over from his back to his side, looking to Race next to him, eyes closed, sweat beading on his forehead, chest still heaving from being out of breath. He reaches over and brushes Race’s damp hair from his forehead. The room is hot from the thick June air.

“You feelin’ okay?” Spot asks softly, pressing his lips gently to Race’s temple. 

“Mmhm,” Race hums tiredly. He leans his head over to rest against Spot’s. “So good.”

Spot smiles. He feels good too. Every time he sleeps with Race, every time they get to be intimate and close and undeniably belonging to one another, Spot feels at home. Race always feels like home, more than any lodging house, any shitty one-bedroom apartment, any city or borough ever could be. Race fills the missing pieces of him. Race is his. And he is Race’s. 

“I love you,” Spot whispers. The words are still foreign. They say it often enough, usually only during sex or other times when they know they’ll be completely alone. It’s gotten easier since Spot got the bedroom in the apartment building by the harbor. Now Race can come and go as he pleases, they don’t have to worry about their nights together being overheard by other tenants or boys in the lodging house. They were safe in the tiny one-bedroom apartment. It was small, almost too small to really be livable, but they didn’t care. Not when it meant no interruptions, not when it meant they could be alone. 

“Mm, love you too.” Race whispers back. He blinks his eyes open to meet Spot’s. Spot stops stroking his hair and holds his rough hand against Race’s cheek gently. 

The air between them is warm, their skin sticky from sweat and sex, bodies pulled flush against each other. Spot’s foot gently rubs along Race’s long legs, tangled between the sheet. He smiles, and Race does too, eyes both filled with love and desire that they’re allowed to have here. 

“Move in with me.” Spot’s quiet words hang in the air between them and Race takes a minute before he registers what Spot has said. 

“You…” Race tries to find his voice, blinking quickly to wake himself up. “You want me to move in with you?”

Spot nods. “You’s well in ya twenties, Racer. Can’t be a Newsie forever.”

Race swallows hard. “You want me ta..ta be with you?”

Spot gently runs his hand down Race’s bare chest. “Yeah. Always.”

“Like...for real?”

Race’s voice is breathy and hopeful and Spot can see tears shining in his eyes. They know they can’t be anything realer than they are here, in Spot’s apartment, two nights a week. That on the streets they can’t be as real as they want to be, that to their friends they can’t be as real as they want to be either, but they both don’t care.

“For real,” Spot whispers. He runs his hand up Race’s chest and throat to his face, slowly through his hair and landing softly on his shoulder. “I wantcha here with me always.”

“Yeah?” Race’s whisper is soft and Spot nods. 

“Yeah.”

Race’s eyes search Spot’s expression. He hesitates, words hanging on his tongue, fear pounding in his chest. 

“I’m in love with you.” 

These words are different. Neither of them have said it, neither of them have let themselves think this way. When Jack and Katherine got married and spoke about being in love, they never applied it to themselves. Their relationship...whatever it was, they hadn’t allowed themselves to be categorized like their friends did. They wouldn’t hold themselves to the same level as other couples. Putting it on that level made it real. Made it  _ for real _ in a way they couldn’t go back from. 

“I’m in love with you too.” Spot doesn’t hesitate in his response. He feels tears welling in his eyes. “I always have been.”

Race’s soft gasp is enough by way of response and Spot gently pulls Race into his arms, their sweat and tears mixing as they hold one another tight. 

“I’m so in love with you, Spotty.” Race’s whisper is shaking violently on the verge of tears. “I can’t...I don’t know what I’d do without you, you’s everything to me, you’s my best friend, you’s always makin’ me feel so good, bein’ with you is...is…” Race chokes on a sob, burying his face in Spot’s shoulder, breathing him in. 

“Shhh,” Spot whispers soothingly. “You’s…” he feels his voice catch in his throat too. “You’s my world, Racer. Nothin’ matters if it ain’t with you.”

Race nods, whimpering into Spot’s shoulder. 

“Don’t cry.” Spot clings to Race tightly. 

“We can’t,” Race whimpers. “We ain’t supposed ta…”

Spot shakes his head, pulling Race back to look at him in the dim moonlight coming through the tiny window in Spot’s room. 

“I don’t care.” Spot’s voice is firm, direct, desperate. “I don’t fuckin’ care what we is and ain’t supposed ta be. I’m sick’a lyin’ to m’self an’ pretendin’ like I ain’t insanely in love with ya.”

Race sniffs, smile replacing his frown of distress. “I just wanna love ya, Spotty. I just wanna be in love.”

“We are.” Spot’s voice is deep, filling Race’s heart with reassurance. “We just said so.”

“I’s been wantin’ ta say that for years,” Race whispers. “I wish…” He shakes his head, looking away.

Spot nods understandingly. “Me too.”

“I don’t wanna play pretend. I want ya an’ I want it ta be real.” Race’s whisper is shaky and Spot gently rests his hand against Race’s cheek lovingly. 

“We’s real. What you an’ me’s got, that’s real. Real as Jack an Kathy, real as Crutchie an’ Rosie. Yeah?”

Race nods. “Yeah. We’s real.”

“If…” Spot thinks hard about the things that have been running through his head for months, well over a year, since he and Race first started taking things to the next level. They’d been walking a thin line for a really long time, and now, after so long, they were finally saying everything they’d been hiding. 

“If it’s so wrong…” Spot feels his emotions rise, being so vulnerable. “Why can’t I stop thinkin’ bout you when you leave? Why do I see ya in my dreams? Why’re ya the only person I’s wanna see or talk ta or be ‘round or any of it? Since the day I fuckin’ met you...why’s it like this? Why’s it feel so good when we’s fuck?”

Race nods instantly. “Maybe they’s wrong. People sayin’ we’s wrong. Maybe they don’t knows.”

Spot nods in agreement. “Maybe they’s don’t.”

“I...I’m in love. I’m in love with you. You’s mine.”

“You’s mine too.” Spot smiles. “All fuckin’ mine, baby.”

Race’s eyes widen at  _ baby _ , something Spot’s only said during sex, very rarely. 

“More,” Race’s whisper begs. “More.”

“You like that?” Spot asks, “You like when I call’s ya baby?” 

Race nods eagerly. “Again.”

“You’s my baby.”

“Again.” Race’s eyes are wide with wonder. 

“You’s my good baby boy.”

“Fuck,” Race breathes. “Please.”

Spot smiles wide, gap between his teeth showing. “My baby boy,” He whispers, sitting up on his elbow to look at Race, his wide eyes locked on Spot’s. “You’s so fuckin’ hot, baby.”

“Yeah?” Race whispers, silly smile spreading on his face. 

“Oh yeah, baby.” He leans down and kisses Race’s lips slow and soft. “So was that a yes?”

“Huh?”

“To movin’ in wit’ me.”

Race beams. “Yeah. Yes, yes, yes, yes please.”

“Good,” Spot grins. “Good boy.”

“Ohhhh, god.” Race moans softly, “Spotty, please.”

Spot grins as he leans over Race, kissing down his chest and still-sticky abs. He sucks marking kisses to Race’s chest, to be hidden discreetly under his undershirt later. He kisses more, and more, and it takes Race a few moments before he realized what he was doing. 

“My baby.” Spot licks up Race’s chest, kissing his jaw and then his lips. Race’s hips rise to press into Spot’s as he braces himself over him. Spot pushes up to look at his work, and then at Race’s shining blue eyes in the moonlight through the window. Spot smiles, and so does Race, glancing down at his chest and gasping softly at the outline of a heart that Spot had bitten into his skin. 

“Oh,” Race whispers, eyes wide as he looks back up at Spot. “Spot.”

Spot’s expression softens and he lays back down next to Race, putting his hand over the heart on Race’s chest. 

Race looks to Spot’s eyes, emotion swimming in them. 

“I love it.” Race puts his hand on top of Spot’s. “I love you.”

Spot presses his forehead against Race’s as they lay together. “I love you too, baby.” 

Race smiles wide, hiding his face shyly in Spot’s shoulder, still clinging tight to Spot’s hand on his chest. 

“So much,” Race whispers. “I love you so much.”

Spot presses a soft kiss to Race’s hair, closing his eyes in bliss. Race does the same, relaxing against the bed, eyes closed, pure love in his veins. Race holds Spot’s hand tight on his chest all night long as they both fall asleep.

*

**Author's Note:**

> i know i've sucked at posting things lately but i promise i am alive and i still love newsies so much!   
> tumblr: gracetrack-higgins


End file.
